"Verminators"

If, like me, you recoil at the sight of any life form smaller than a kitten, but enjoy watching them infest other people's homes from the safety of your own, Verminators is your show.

The series follows the day-to-day pest-killing adventures of a exterminating company located in Los Angeles. In the last episode I saw, the company's field crew tackled an all-out roach infestation in a lower-middle class apartment complex, a horde of rats in a slightly better apartment complex, and a bevy of black widow spiders who'd decided to nest in the horse barns of a well-to-do family's estate.

The lesson here? No one, regardless of socio-economic status, is safe from critters.

In addition to getting a good look at other people's bug-infested homes, the Verminators also pass on helpful tips and tricks for spotting them in yours. Rats and mice will leave smudge marks on corners and walls, for example. Termites are more likely to destroy moist wood. Regular house cleaning will keep spiders at bay.

All good things to know, especially if you're more interested in keeping vermin out of your house than figuring out ways to get rid of it once it's made itself at home.

New episodes of Verminators air Monday nights at 10:00PM ET on the Discovery channel; older episodes appear throughout the week.

Word Art

Yesterday Vince Liaguno, editor of the upcoming anthology I'll be appearing in entitled Unspeakable Horror, introduced me to Wordle.net.

Wordle is a clever Java program written by an IBM programmer named Jonathan Feinberg. It takes any text or URL (with a feed) that you enter, analyzes the prevalence of the words, and then transforms them into a lovely and fascinating word cloud. The one shown here is based on the the content of this blog. (Click the graphic for a larger version.) Vince used it to create an alternate view of the anthology's table of contents.

You can change the colors and fonts and layouts, and generally waste all kinds of precious time playing around with it. It's great fun.

However, it also has a useful application. At least for me, and possibly any other writers out there. I like to enter the text of my stories into Wordle, then use the results to find and weed out crutch words I often use, such as like, just, went, was, etc.

Thanks, Vince!

AFI Won't Leave Me Alone

You wouldn't think that sending a complaint to an organization would automatically put your on their spam list. Especially when their contact form says nothing about automatically adding you to their spam list, or gives you an opportunity to opt out of said spam list.

But that's exactly what the American Film Institute has done. Since my last post on this topic, the AFI has sent me two unsolicited emails.

The first was particularly amusing, since my original email to them was complaining about their "Ten Greatest American Films in Ten Classic Genres." It says:

Dear C. Michael,

Thanks for sharing in the excitement of AFI's 10 TOP 10, the newest chapter in the American Film Institute's ongoing celebration of American cinema.

(Yeah, well, I wasn't sharing the excitement. I was sharing my disappointment. But I guess it's all the same to you, right?)

We invite you to visit the TV show's companion Web site at AFI.com for fascinating details on all 100 movies, including exclusive videos of leading film artists. You can add your own comments and test your movie IQ with AFI's Movie Quiz: 10 TOP 10.

(Uh, already been there, done that, wrote to complain about it.)

It goes on from here, yammering about their upcoming salute to Warren Beatty and all the exciting extra features they have stored up at the web site.

The second email flogs the Warren Beatty tribute AGAIN.

It's not that I'm outraged about receiving unsolicited emails. My inbox is filled with them, and at least the American Film Institute isn't trying to sell me a high-quality replica Rolex or something with an all-new formula that promises to make my bedroom love times last longer.

But still. I wrote to complain. Given that simple fact, I'd say the chances of me being predisposed to receiving promotional emails from AFI are pretty slim.

Apologies to anyone who took my advice to write the AFI about their "Ten Greatest American Films in Ten Classic Genres" and, as a result, has been getting these annoying emails as well.

The unsubscribe link is at the bottom of their emails. Use it.

Greetings from Door County, Wisconsin

We spent the Fourth of July weekend in Door County with some friends.

This trip is becoming a bit of a tradition with us -- for two years now we've spent the holiday with these same friends, in a fantastic condo we were lucky enough to find last year.

We spent our time cooking, yard saling, driving up and down the peninsula in search of quaint charm (plenty was found) and, yes, enjoying a cocktail or two on the veranda. (From where the picture above was snapped. Fireworks just outside our door? Top that for Upper Midwestern luxury.)

Door County is one of those places that makes you want to leave your real life and stay there until all your money is gone. Then, once it is, to buckle down in search of a way to live there permanently.

At any rate, I hope your Fourth was as enjoyable as mine. Happy birthday, America!

Outrageous Fortune

Giving Rush Limbaugh $400 million dollars to do anything other than shut the hell up is bad enough. But the fact that this hypocritical, cigar-chomping, Vicodin-popping, fear-mongering, far-right gasbag mouthpiece will remain on the airwaves until 2016 completely horrifies me.

A Nightmare at the Opera

Long-time readers know I often lament the fact that horror ain't got no class. So it was especially good news to learn that David Cronenburg's 1986 sci-fi/horror classic, The Fly, is soon to be an opera.

Opera? As my high-school friends back in Iowa might say, "That's class out the ass."

Directed by David Cronenburg, with a score by Howard Shore (Cronenburg's long-time colleague and composer of the film's original score) and conducted by Placido Domingo, The Fly: The Opera will debut at the Paris Opera House and appear in September in a production by the LA Opera.

Though he's sticking close to the original story -- intrepid reporter meets fascinating scientist and his teleportation machine, scientist tests the device on himself in a moment of pique and accidentally gets a housefly into the mix, horror ensues -- Cronenburg is setting the operatic version in the 1950s.

For tickets and more information visit www.The FlyTheOpera.com.

An Experiment in Sleep Deprivation - HyperiCon 4

I arose at 4:30 on Friday morning in order to drive to Nashville, where HyperiCon is held. I finally went to sleep around 2:30 the next morning. Lather, rinse, repeat, and you'll get a good idea of what my three-day experience in Tennessee was like.

The details? Plenty of those. Some I even remember.

For example, seeing my pal John Hornor Jacobs. (That's John with Fran Friel. More on her below.) John and I roomed together at the con, and it was his idea to bring some snacks to keep in our room. If it hadn't been for this wise suggestion, we wouldn't have had much to eat (or drink -- but more on that later) the entire weekend, because the conference hotel was inexplicably without a restaurant or bar. In addition to his uncanny prescience John's also a terrific writer, and gave me the manuscript of his first novel during the con. I've already read the first four chapters, and survey says we have a winner. John also has three -- count 'em! -- shorts slated for publication. (For a different view of the weekend's festivities, including a terrific and funny video, check out John's blog, Bastardized Version.)

One of the people I was most looking forward to meeting is Fran Friel, whose new book, Mama's Boy and Other Dark Tales was recently released. In addition to being one of the nicest people you could ever meet, Fran has a hidden dark side which she gives free reign when it comes to her fiction.

As a result, Mama's Boy is filled with stories that are both lovely and troubling at the same time -- a tough act to pull off. She also makes a great dinner companion, which John and I discovered Saturday night. We went to The Melting Pot, a restaurant that specializes in fondue which, contrary to all rumors, has not completely gone the way of Pet Rocks and key parties.


Chatting with fellow Illinoisan Steven Shrewsbury was also a high point. Shrews, as he's called, is the author of the just-released Hawg, as well as a dozen or so other books, and just about as many more on the way. With a full-time job and family, I don't know how he does it. Shrews is also one of the most... um, animated?... readers you're likely to see. Seriously, if Steven Shrewsbury schedules a reading at your local bookseller, show up. If you don't, you'll be left wondering exactly what everyone else is talking about.

Saturday night saw several parties. My favorite was the Apex bash, hosted by Apex Book Company editor-in-chief Jason Sizemore, editor Mari Adkins (who I shared more than a few good laughs with), and graphics guru Justin Stewart. Apex is the publisher of Fran's new book in addition to many others, along with Apex Digest. For my money (and they managed to make off with a bit of it) Apex puts out some of the best-looking and -reading publications out there. Naturally, they put on a great party, complete with a truly horrifying shot concoction called "scrambled brains."

Seen, painted on the sidewalk, while I was in downtown Nashville.

Sunday didn't amount to much for me, other than a long drive back to Chicago with a sack of ten White Castles in the passenger seat, purchased to nurse my hangover. While I was glad I went, I was glad to be back home as well. Because I knew I was finally going to get some sleep.